User blog comment:Snowstripe the Fierce/The Mercenaries' War/@comment-26538658-20150825010919

It was a quiet day in Mossflower. Nothing seemed to be going on, and everybeast relaxed.

That is except for the former corsair weasel Boar. He was plotting, as he usually did, plotting a crazy scheme to gain control of Mora Deathspear's army. He was running from a small band, only about twelve strong, but they were robbers,murders, thiefs all, led by a staot named Grobbrig Silvertongue. Bands had become quite a rare site to see, as many of them had been either absorbed or were recruited into Moran's army. It seemed like a good deal, after all, with the Guosim, Long Patrol and Redwallers usually stopping the mercenaries' plans before they even start, many had gone hungry or without shelter. So getting fed, a good nights' sleep every night, and a share in the treasure cllected from raids, anybeast would want to join. But Boar felt that something wasn't right, it seemed too good to be true, more like a woodlander plan. He knew that Moran was hiding crossed claws behind his back when he made those deals, and he was going to give in, oh, he would indeed, but this time, he would cross his claws as well. He flicked some dirt off his claymore with a claw and picked a roasted dove  up off from the ground. He brought it up to his mouth with a paw, then threw it down in disgust. It was rotten, bugs were gnawing away at it's bones. He would be going hungry once again today. He continued down the path until he heard a crunch in the nearby thicket.